Different
by Vergalicious
Summary: A continuation from Chapter Ten of The Reckoning // What chance does Chloe have of normality, if even the ones she's suppose to trust think she should be locked up?


**Well, hi there Darkest Powers fandom!**

Soooo The Reckoning comes out tomorrow, and I'm so hyped and excited I just couldn't stop myself from writing a little bit o' fanfic. As I said, this is just a little story that continues on from Chapter Ten of The Reckoning, which was posted by Kelley Armstrong to spoil us. Enjoy :)

Oh, and if you read this story _after _The Reckoning came out, leave me a review telling me what you thought of it. I'd love to hear what you have to say about it :D

Okay, now read.

* * *

I stared at the front door of the safe house and just wanted it to swallow me up.

Margaret's hands fumbled with the lock as she opened the door for me and Tori, pushing it open for us and smiling as widely and fake-ly as she could.

I could see the fear.

After what had happened at the cemetery…

I closed my eyes for a brief second and stumbled through the doorway.

"Well, this was uh, certainly a um…," Margaret's eyes went everywhere around the room except my face. They stopped on the mantle, and she stared at it as if it would clear her thoughts.

But I knew what she was thinking. She was thinking about what I had done; something she never suspected a 15-year-old could do. Something that proved we were exactly as horrible as she had assumed.

Tori shot me a look that might have been full of sympathy, but it was so brief I barely caught it. She headed upstairs and with her leave, Margaret started wringing her hands absently.

"Well, Chloe, I guess we'll continue our lessons tomorrow." She looked over my shoulder and I turned to see Andrew and Derek standing there, their expressions wide-eyed and confused.

I turned back to Margaret. She looked at me and put on another fake smile.

"Why don't you and Derek head upstairs? I'd like to discuss you're… progress with Andrew."

"I just want to say –,"

"Chloe, darling, there'll be time to talk tomorrow." She reached out like she was going to pat my head but drew her hand back down to her side. She settled for another smile.

I turned and clomped up the stairs after Derek. My heart was thundering, and I sure as hell had reason for it to do so.

_Try as hard as you can, _Margaret had said. I had warned her being in a cemetery wasn't good, not for me at least, but she had pushed and prodded until I closed my eyes, pretending to raise the dead.

_Necromancer's can sense other necromancer's powers, you know. Try as hard as you can, I said._ I had vamped it up, and that's when I had felt the first rumble underneath my feet. Glancing down, a broken and bony had started clawing its way from the dirt. After that, well… We had spent a whole lot of time on clean-up duty, trying to return the cemetery's graves back to their original state. And all the while, Margaret had stayed silence.

But her silence had said so many words.

I was a freak, a mutation. There was no way a young necromancer could do what I had done, yet it had happened and there was no excuses now that Margaret had witnessed it with her own eyes. There was no use for her to even lie about what she had been thinking; I knew, I _knew _and she –

"Chloe?" I blinked and saw I was staring at the door at the bottom of the stairs. It was the small office Margaret and Andrew had holed up in to discuss my "progress."

I turned and looked up into Derek's face, my eyebrows furrowing.

"I wasn't – I was just thinking," I said. He gave me a look that said he knew me better and I sighed.

"Okay, I want to know what they're saying, but I –." He held up his hand.

"Let me." He stalked down the stairs slowly, making no noise. I listened as hard as I could and still couldn't hear even the slightest moan from the wooden stairs.

I took off my shoes when he reached the third step and started after him. When my foot made contact with the first step, it let out an enormous groan as if I was 400 pounds heavier.

Derek looked over his shoulder at me and rolled his eyes.

"You know you're not exactly the sneakiest person, right?" I tried to match his glare.

"I still want to hear with my own ears," I said, knowing that if he heard something bad he would gloss it over for me and not tell me how bad it actually was.

Derek rolled his eyes one more time and turned, holding his arms out and open.

I stared at him.

"Well, do you want to come down or not?" he snapped. I reached forward and grabbed his hands. He huffed and took a step up, then hoisted me up against his chest and carried me down the rest of the way like I was a sack of potatoes.

He sat me down in front of the door and we both leaned in, listening intently with my back up against his chest. I could make out a few murmurs, but I knew Derek was hearing the full conversation.

Suddenly, Margaret's voice rose.

"You think I should stick around, Andrew? We're messing with some very dangerous kids here! Chloe could _kill you _if she put enough energy into it, you realize that, right? She's way too dangerous to be out roaming—."

Andrew murmured something, and there was a loud bang like someone dropped a piece of furniture.

"Necromancy works both ways, you know. If you can slam a soul back into a body, nothing stops you from ripping one out of a living person." I felt like someone had poured scalding water down my shirt. I turned and looked up at Derek and saw him stiffen slightly, his face hardening like it was a struggle for him to hear what was going on in the room. He met my eyes, smiled, and relaxed against me, his hand brushing my arm reassuringly.

"She shouldn't be walking the streets, is what I'm saying!" Margaret continued. "She shouldn't be out there where she's exposed to the public! The Edison Group was right about it all."

Andrew said something again.

"No, not killing them!" Margaret bristled. "But they were right about keeping them locked up – these _creatures, _they aren't children. They aren't _normal _and nothing we do will change that. Chloe and Derek _especially _should be locked away – and for good."

I straightened, feeling my heart hammer in my throat.

Dangerous. I was dangerous. I could kill people; If I could raise them in my sleep, could I "rip their soul out" in my sleep, too? I didn't even know a necromancer could do that. What if I had already done that accidentally? What if at some point while we were on the run, I had killed someone within a close radius? What if I killed Derek, or Simon or Tori? What would I do then?

"Chloe!" I looked and saw Derek's face, so close to mine. His hand was on my arm and when I blinked I realized my eyes were starting to fill with tears.

What had they done to us?

They truly had made us monsters.

"Chloe, look at me." I did. "She doesn't know what she's saying. You're not going to kill anybody – you're not meant to be locked up, okay?"

"B-but I-I,"

"No." His head turned like he was listening to something, then he grabbed me and hoisted my up the stairs, setting me down outside his bedroom so we were just out of view as Andrew and Margaret left the room.

He looked down at me, his green eyes wide with worry.

"Chloe, you're not dangerous. You're not like that at all. You're not going to kill anybody."

I felt a tear slide out. If I could do it in my sleep… Well, what if I killed Derek? I looked at him and imagined him dead and the sorrow deep inside my being only built. I felt a giant heave rack my body and I buried my eyes into my fists in an attempt to stifle the tears.

"I'm sorry, Derek, I'm so sorry –,"

"For what? You didn't do anything."

"I just want to be normal again," I whispered, temporarily forgetting about his bionic hearing. He stopped talking and I could just hear him breathing, feel his presence standing there.

"Chloe," he murmured. I looked up at him, surprised at how soft his voice was. His eyes were unlike anything I'd ever seen before – full of some sort of emotion that made my knees weak.

No more words needed to be spoken. His hand went to my arm, sliding down to my hand as he guided me into his warm chest. His other arm wound around my back as I grabbed onto his sweatshirt and let my tears fall.

"She's right," I mumbled into his shirt.

"No she isn't," he replied as his other arm wrapped around my body snugly. "We're just different, that's all. We're different and they don't know how to control us or what to say, so they just slap on a label that we're dangerous, difficult…," he let his voice trail off as his hold tightened around me.

I moved one arm around his waist and breathed in his scent. He actually smelt nice. Nothing like cologne, but just a natural husky yet sweet scent that made me want to curl up against him.

I stopped crying and we just held each other, standing there in the hallway.

We were both dangerous, and we were both mutants, and we were both difficult and we both had many obstacles we've yet to overcome.

And yet… if it wasn't for this travesty that had become my life, I never would have met Derek. He was the only light I could see in this darkness. He was the only person who made me feel truly safe, made me feel that maybe, possibly, there was a new life waiting for me after this.


End file.
